The Reconciliating Embrace
by Arazia
Summary: Jack and Miranda hate each other, but now as the war with the Reapers is over, perhaps there is hope that even their disputes could also be staved off. The question is: will they be able to get over their past and move on for the greater good or will they remain within the childish conflict.
1. I would never

"I wouldn't have to come here if you knew your place. In the trash with all the other," Miranda paused, glancing coldly over the convict, "unsuccessful projects."

"I'll show you a project!" Jack yelled. Her arms flashed with blue light as she threw her hands towards the Cerberus Officer. Miranda automatically raised her arms, creating a biotic field. Jack's wave bounced off the woman's defence making her growl with anger.

It all started with Gabby's complains about shocks coming from downstairs causing some abnormalities in the Normandy's core. Miranda, according to Cerberus' hierarchy was the one in charge right after Commander Shepard who was now off to yet another mission. She felt obliged to make sure that the psychotic murderer on Deck 4 did not plan on sabotaging the ship in any sort of way. Who would have suspected that the visit would almost instantly turn into the convict commanding her to 'get the fuck out' and soon enough into a real fight? Well, anyone who had any brains or have already seen the two women interact with each other.

Miranda gasped loudly as the convict charged at her with her whole might. The accumulated energy from the hit sent both of them to the floor. The thud of the explosion made their ears sting with repetitive ringing. It was hardly believable that the impact didn't blow a hole in the ship.

Jack shook her bald head and almost losing her balance on the way, jumped at Miranda, who in the meantime tried to get herself to stand up. Jack caught her arm and pushed her back to the ground, inflicting a strike right at the woman's face

The fight didn't last long but certainly it was brutal and wild, somehow resolving with Jack holding Miranda up against the wall with her biotic power.

It was clearly visible how furious Miranda was. And even though she knew that physical means meant nothing in comparison with biotics, she still tried to wiggle herself out of the grip.

It was when Jack's face lightened up with a purely evil smirk that Miranda started to realize the position she found herself in. The only thing she could hope for was that Shepard would get there in time. However, the chances were... unfortunate. In that moment Miranda genuinely regretted not bringing her pistols with her. Of course in the many years she spent working for Cerberus she found herself in extremely adverse circumstances on multiple occasions, but she had not yet been at the mercy of someone completely unstable; resistant to any sort of reasoning, moreover burning with pure hatred towards her and what she stood for.

Miranda risked a glance at Jack and came to see the lack of her or clothes as an advantage in close combat. While Miranda looked... at least like a mess: her hair wet from sweat glued to her forehead; her suit ripped in few places, uncovering parts of her chest and thighs, leaving them vulnerable; Jack had quite a few bruises and scratches but nothing more. For once one could say that she presented herself better than Miranda. Of course considering the circumstances.

"Oh well... Looks like the great Cerberus bitch can't stand failure."

Miranda tried to take on a calm face and said,"I can't stand you, that's true."

To her surprise, a small, honest smile came to Jack's face.

"Don't you think you're not really in the position to say so? At least if you value your probe-produced perfect ass."

Jack closed the distance between them. Now their faces were only inches apart. The air around them was burning with the hot of their bodies and their breath.

"Are you wondering what I could-no no, what I will do to you?" Jack whispered with eyes cold as ice, sending creeps down Miranda's spine.

All kinds of thoughts were running through Miranda's head. One more peculiar than the other. Many of them didn't even consist of torture in the means of violence, but rather more humiliating, carnal sort of punishment. Or rather revenge. For what exactly, she wasn't sure. Would it be projected at her or Cerberus? This reckless woman might have even intended to strike the Illusive Man himself. It was no secret that he, like every other man or woman, admired Miranda's physique and most probably perceived her as achieveable. Her own position in the ranks of Cerberus was under threat, alongside with her body and diginity!

They remained in that exact position for far too long. The one moment they shared so close to each other, their bodies seemed to work in unison. Their chests raising and falling at the same time at the same rate; their eyes steady, not even considering blinking; even the droplets of sweat crossing their faces appeared to start the race together. Everything seemed to froze for that particular moment, even the time itself, as Jack awaited her answer. Then all of a sudden she took a step back.

"I'll let you go this time. But I promise you I'll get you after the mission is done," Jack said, releasing the Miranda from the biotic grip, letting her fall freely to the floor.

"I thought... I thought you would..." Miranda gasped, for once bereft of her confidence. It was difficult to tell is she was more relieved or shocked at the convicts decision. Perhaps after all Jack wasn't as thoughtless and realized the consequences before it was too late for both of them. But that would mean that Miranda made the mistake of underestimating two aspects of that woman in the very same day. She shook the ideas out of her head. It wasn't the right time nor place to debate about such matters.

In the meantime, hearing Miranda's pathetic excuse of an allegation Jack frowned, her eyes turned a few tones darker. Now they seemed like two black, endless voids. And yet Miranda could almost physically sense the anger hidden behind them.

"You can accuse me of almost every possible crime and you wouldn't be wrong, but I would never touch you in that way." Jack paused, turning away, ready to get back to her own business, but before she was able to take another step she glanced over her shoulder, staring right into Miranda's eyes. "Or anyone else."


	2. Can I?

Days have passed quickly after the Normandy crew was forced to split. Months flew by like a gunshot from the good old M-15 Vindicator, but each and every member of Shepard's crew had the haunting feeling at the back of their head, that the threat was still out there. No matter what Cerberus, the Alliance or even the Council itself said. And the scariest part was... they were right.

The seemingly peaceful days were long gone, as Cerberus' activities became quite an issue, let alone the Reapers. Some of the crew rejoined Normandy, now under the orders of the Alliance. Some however, chose to follow their own paths. Wherever they led to. Call it destiny, coincidence or carefully planned and intended happening, but those paths crossed more than once.

* * *

"Jack," Miranda nodded towards the other woman in a form of greeting.

"Cheerleader," Jack returned the gesture hesitantly, still quite in shock; considering whether it was a trap or not. But it wasn't that she gave a shit anyway. Not at this point. This meant she could actually go along with whatever was about to happen. She found herself surprised at the sudden realization that she didn't even feel the urge to kick that huge ass.

"I heard of what happened at the Grissom Academy," Miranda said, carefully observing the change in Jack's expression. She could almost sense how every single muscle in the convict's body tensed. Despite her tries, she couldn't make out much out of Jack's face, but she could swear that for a brief moment, a grimace crossed her face.

"Alright, that's nice. Now, can you get the fuck out of my way before I smear the walls with your fat Cerberus ass?" Jack snarled in her casual aggressive tone, however there was something more to it. Weariness maybe? It was hard to tell if the dark bags under Jack's eyes were the effect of exhaustion or maybe just the dim light playing tricks. But it wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. Even after she left Cerberus, Miranda still had her ways to get informations. She was more that astonished when a very reliable source implied that Jack managed to not only gain a position of a teacher at the Grissom Academy, but in fact bond with her students. It kept bugging Miranda. Considering Jack's psychological profile such turn was highly unlikely. She couldn't help it, but wonder how wrong could she possibly be in her judgements. She wasn't wrong very often, of that she was sure. Finally, she decided to see for herself. When she first glanced at Jack, starring blankly into space with a half empty glass of... whatever it was, it became clear that the exhaustion beaming from her wasn't physical. She actually cared for these kids. Or at least she appeared to do.

"Jack, please, just listen." Miranda looked into Jack's eyes, making sure she had her attention. She wasn't going to say it twice. "I admit I was wrong," She paused, trying to steady her voice. Being honest wasn't her strength, but for some reason she wanted Jack to believe her. She didn't care what the other woman thought of her, but after she left Cerberus, Miranda realized that in fact Shepard was right from the beginning. Perhaps Cerberus meant well, but it was long time ago and many, many mistakes were many along the way. She decided it was the time to make things straight. "I'm... really sorry for what happened. Both on the Normandy and at the Academy."

Silence was her response. Jack's eyebrow flinched, but the rest of her body remained still. Except of her brown eyes that now appeared to be carefully inspecting Miranda with a faint flash of confusion.

Miranda withheld the urge to drop eye contact as the dark eyes kept piercing her. "I understand that you don't want to talk to me. But just so you know, I may dislike you but I hold nothing against you."

Miranda as always came prepared, armoured with sentences she come up with beforehand to shield her, but now her own mind failed her. She dropped the act a while ago, barely sticking to what she established with herself. No words seemed right and she couldn't do anything about it.

Jack looked down, jumped off the high stool she was sat on and headed towards the door without a single word. It was no secret that Miranda hoped the conversation to go smoother, but either way, she understood the reaction. As she was just about to accept her defeat, Jack stopped and looked over her shoulder right in Miranda's eyes.

"Do you think Shepard can do it?"

"Pardon?" Miranda asked, raising her eyebrows, clearly dumbfounded.

"Do you think she can actually defeat those bastards?" Jack asked again. If there ever was an aggressive tone to her voice there was no sign of it now. Her voice was soft, but loud and clear. Miranda hasn't heard her speak like this ever before.

It took the ex-Cerberus a few moments that felt like years to get her thoughts together. The question caught her off guard and to her own surprise she was unsure of the answer. She took her time, remembering, calculating, analysing, before eventually giving in to her intuition. Or maybe rather hope.

"I... Yes. Yes she can."

"That's good."

Once more silence fell between them and neither of them had the courage to even move a muscle, let alone say a word. Even the bartender sensing the tension floating in the air decided to tend to her business somewhere else and disappeared from the view, leaving the bar almost deserted.

"Jack?"

Jack turned to face the other woman.

"Can I hug you?" Miranda asked hesitantly. She wasn't even sure why she said that in the first place.

Jack hesitated for a moment, but then nodded slightly in an almost invisible gesture. Neither of them knew why did she agree. Maybe she was astonished to the point of not knowing what she was doing; maybe she too, thought about all the aspects of the war; or maybe for a brief moment she actually understood Miranda - how she would do anything to protect her sister, just like Jack would do anything to protect her students.

Miranda embraced her. At first the contact was awkward and seemed quite embarrassing, forced almost, but after a moment Jack hid her face in Miranda's neck and tightly wrapped her arms around her. The pleasant warmth of Miranda's body made her feel just a little bit more comfortable... and safe. But of course, she'd never admit to it.

They parted their ways once more, beforehand establishing that all that happened would stay only between the two of them.

* * *

Everybody knew that this moment would come, it was inevitable. The final battle. Win or lose, nothing in between. But who would've thought that a krogan and a turian could stand arm to arm as brothers? Who would've thought that the mistakes of the past can be put aside so easily? Who would've thought that one human Spectre will lead to the union of all?

Those who knew Commander Shepard had no choice than to take a stand and fight for everything she fought for. After everything she has done for them and the rest of the Galaxy, there was no other option. So many lives were already lost, but if serving under Shepard thought them anything, it was that you always have to fight until the end.

* * *

Miranda was in London, not far away from where the main battle was taking place. She might have left Cerberus, but she still had her responsibilities. All the lives of the men and women fighting by her side. This was her responsibility - to keep them alive as long as she could and send to hell as many of the Reaper abomination as she could. Even though she was with no doubt a great biotic and an experience soldier the task wasn't easy. For every husk they've managed to kill came another one... and another one... and another one... The situation was fatal gently speaking. A quarter of her team has died in the past hour, a third was injured and half of the rest have been on the verge of exhaustion. She started to question for how long will they be able to keep their position.

Unimaginably high shriek pierced the air. Banshee. More than one. There was absolutely no chance they could fight for even one more minute. It was the time to make the decision. And it was her who had to make the call. Her gaze swept from soldier to soldier as they cried in pain, agony or fear.

She took a deep breath and sprinted as fast as she could towards the farthest point of the battlefield still free of enemies. She got to a barricade and with all her might created a biotic field in order to at least keep away the husks.

She has seen Jack do it in the Collector Base, it couldn't be that hard after all. But she was only deceiving herself. Soon her joints felt soft and her arms fatigued as never before. She got to her knees when she heard a quiet gurgle coming from beside her.

"Miss Lawson..."

She looked down toward the place where the voice was coming from. A young petty officer of the Alliance forces was lying just a meter away from her. She remembered him very well. He was one of the very few soldiers that held nothing against working under an ex-Cerberus. Said out loud it sounded ridiculous, but Miranda really tried her best to help in the war, unfortunately not many could see that. But in fact, he not only didn't mind her command. When she first got to the camp he greeted her warmly and introduced her to the area they were covering as well as to the advantages of his mates as members of the military. All in a polite and to-the-point sort of manner. Just the way Miranda liked it. And now he was lying there. Half alive, half dead. Clutching his hands on a heavily bleeding wound on his torso. But he was smiling. He always was.

"Jordan. How badly are you hurt?" She asked trying to judge for herself just by looking at the injury but her vision started to become blurry. Every cell in her body seemed to burn, but it didn't even cross her mind to think about it.

"...I'll be alright, Miss Lawson. We'll all be, won't we?" He gasped as tears started to gather up in his eyes. His eyes looked like glass. Miranda could see him struggle to focus on looking at her.

"Jordan, hold on. Someone will come with a medi-gel soon," She said, looking around. She was lying.

"Won't we, Miss Lawson?" His voice quieter and weaker with every syllable.

Her arms began to shake. The biotic field was the only thing separating them from at least a dozen of husks. She wanted to drop it and help the boy, but this wouldn't change anything. At least not for him. He still would die but he would bring her with him.

"Miss Lawson, I'm sorry I can't fight, I would-I-I would," tears started to roll down, washing away the mud from his pale face as he started sobbing.

Her breathing became heavy, her vision even more blurry. Her ears started to fault her as well. She could feel pain in every cell of her body. If she wasn't already kneeling, she wouldn't be able to stand straight anymore.

"Jordan... Just... stay with me."

"I'm sorry, Miss Lawson. I think... I think I've got to go." His last words were barely audible. She wasn't even sure if she really heard him saying that or was it just her imagination. A fault of her mind, to hear words among the cries, gunshots, screams, explosions, husks banging on the barrier.

Her back curved into a grotesque position as she desperately tried to hold the field. Everyone has a breaking point, and this was her's. A single tear dropped from her eye when she was just about to let go off the field. She wanted to once more glance over the soldiers covered by her biotics, tell them she was sorry for failing them. But she couldn't. She was too tired. The sounds started to become low, toneless, meaningless. Everything got darker to the point she could almost see only blackness. As she was about to fall it all stopped. The pain, the fatigue... Was she dead?

"Will you finally accept that I'm a way better biotic than you, cheerleader?" Jack smirked, kneeling next to her, keeping the field strong, steady and still.

"I might," Miranda smiled, waiting for her vision and hearing to at least partially come back to normal before getting herself off the ground.

"If you want to kiss me, then I've got some bad news 'cause we've got to get rid of those fuckers first," Jack pointed her chin towards the enemies charging at the barrier.

"Smear the walls with them?" Miranda couldn't help but smile at her own joke. Or maybe at the memory itself. It was so bizarre. If someone told her a year ago that she'd be genuinely happy to see Jack, she would have thrown them out of the airlock.

Miranda raised her hands again and joined Jack with keeping the field up. She knew she was the helper. She knew her place.

"I guess you could say so. Alright... Three..." Jack counted, her gaze reaching out to the enemies, "Two..." She risked one glance at Miranda, making sure she was up and ready for the action, "One!"

The field blown up with energy, sending tens of husks straight to hell where they belong.


	3. All your gratitude

Miranda's team managed to regroup as she and Jack fought off endless waves of the upcoming enemies. They knew that Shepard was out there, saving the world like she always did, but something wasn't right. It was taking far too long considering Shepard's standards.

Suddenly, lurid red light pierced the sky, engulfing the darkness of night hoovering over the horizon. The blood-like energy stormed through the battlefield, and all the abominations created by the Reapers were devoured by the light that rammed them into dirt as they dropped dead on the spot. Just like that.

"She did it." It was the only sentence many have managed to come up with. And even those who were not able to say these words still kept them in their minds. For the upcoming months, years or even decades they would live by this phrase. The Commander saved them. The war was finally over. The silence of the still living and breathing soldiers travelled through the battlefield until a single man yelled "hooray!" on top of his lungs. An instant after tens of other voices followed in the lively choir of triumph.

* * *

Jack approached Miranda, swinging her hands by her sides as if confused of their use when the fight was over. The blood smeared on her face formed a layer of hard, purple crust, crossed with numerous cracks.

"So... Now what?" Jack asked, looking around the ruins that not so long ago would have been called London. Many buildings were torn apart; the grass burnt to the bare ground, trees staggering in the rhythm of the wind; the sombre remains of skyscrapers overlooked the streets, with glass falling from the windows every now and then, as if they too were shedding tears of joy alongside the survivors.

"I don't really know." Miranda said, following with a long sigh. "My father is gone, so are the Reapers, my sister is safe, Cerberus is the past..." Her thoughts wandered off to places and times far away. Things that were behind her for good. The future hasn't crossed her mind. Not even once - the war from the very beginning seemed like a hopeless case and even despite her faith in the Commander, it seemed so unrealistic, so pointless to plan as far ahead as days, let alone months or years. But she hasn't sunk deeply into her thoughts as Jack's voice was easily able to pull her back into reality.

"Do you have a place to stay?" Jack asked tonelessly. Her gaze wandered off somewhere in the distance but wasn't exactly fixed on anything. The question was so blunt and bleak that if it didn't seem entirely out of character Miranda might have missed it, blaming it on her hearing or the wind.

Miranda wasn't stupid and knew Jack long enough to know it wasn't just a polite conversation starter. Jack didn't bother with politeness. Ever. Unwittingly, Miranda's jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened as if sensing a trap.

"Well... no but I-"

"You can stay at my place. It's not like I'm heading there often, so we don't even have to see each other that much," Jack said without a shade of emotion crossing her face.

Miranda wanted to protest. All the possible situations crossed her mind. Maybe Jack really wasn't going to spend much time in her apartment but statistically it wasn't as promising considering that the only two conversations they had that did not result in a fight or argument lasted within the range of five minutes. However, it seemed like the only available option at that particular moment. Most of Miranda's contacts were either dead or sparking with hatred about her betrayal of Cerberus. The people she owned favours to - well many of them were less fortunate than her during the war, and it wasn't difficult to predict that the aftermath will take its toil too. And it wasn't that she could really count on the Alliance. She also had to stay away from the public view for a while. At least until her links with Cerberus would be seen as less suspicious.

Even though Jack didn't really ask if Miranda wanted to move in and rather stated that she could and assumed that she would, she stared at the ex-Cerberus with anticipation. She studied the light movement of the blue eyes. She knew Miranda was considering her offer. But Jack couldn't blame her - she did too. The idea came out of nowhere and in the rush of the moment she decided to go for it. From all the foolish, unreasonable choices she made in her personal life this one might have been the weirdest. But for some reason she hasn't regretted it yet.

Miranda's past experiences with so-called 'friends' made her grow worried. The only result of trusting people was putting her sister and herself at risk. At least that's how it was until she met Shepard. If not the Commander, Oriana would have... it was better not to think about it. The situation itself didn't make the choice any easier. From all the people, why would Jack offer her a place to stay? But what was possibly the worst thing that could happen? Whatever it was, the alternatives weren't pleasant either.

"Thank you," said Miranda finally, still trying to shook off the astonishment.

"Don't piss yourself with all your gratitude," Jack muttered, turned around and simply wandered off. Miranda's gaze followed her for a few yards until she realized it. There was still a lot to do. She had to examine what has left of her team, ready to provide medical assistance; she also assumed that the Alliance would expect a rapport. The sooner she'd start the sooner she'd be finished. However, she wasn't entirely sure on wheter it was a good thing.

In the meantime Miranda tried to recall what she read in Jack's files. Her profile in fact did mention her to be unstable and perhaps even unable of making reasonable decisions, however Miranda already had a chance see for herself that it wasn't entirely true. Of course Jack's emotional state was very... swingy, but despite what Miranda thought at the beginning of their relationship, Jack was intelligent and knew what she was doing. Which was even more disturbing considering that it meant her path of self destruction was partially a choice.

* * *

Jack's place was not quite what Miranda thought it would be. It was small but tidy. Kind of empty, with some basic furniture Miranda suspected was already there when Jack bought the apartment. It wasn't very punk or rebellious as one could expect. Instead it was rather simple with light uninteresting, soulless colors. Everything was rather cheap. Not obscure or anything, but Miranda could easily tell a fake when she saw one. For example both the couch and the beige armchair in the salon were far from branded. The long elevation covering the north wall of the kitchen that had an outlook on the vestibule of the apartment was, as she presumed, a low budget version of a style quite fashionable few years ago. The cream-colored walls seemed to have a greyish tone to them already. But despite all this, the apartment gave a sense of comfort and was overall quite soothing.

"I know it's not up to your standards, but from now on it'll have to do," Jack broke the silence as she turned around to make sure the other woman actually followed her inside. Her face was expressionless, which wasn't something Miranda was used to, considering most of their previous outings were quite... dynamic, if not aggressive.

"Jack it's more than enough. I really appreciate-," started Miranda, but she was cut-off mid-sentence.

"Yep, alright." Jack nodded in a snarky manner. For some reason Miranda expected her to turn around and disappear in one of the rooms, but once again her predictions turned out to be faulty.

"Jack," Miranda sighed, brushing her fingers against her forehead. That was exactly the kind of situation she knew they would sooner or later encounter. Of course she hoped it would rather be later, but she wasn't very lucky. Especially in the last couple of months. "I'm just trying to be nice. I know you hate me," for a split of second Miranda's thoughts ran through all their past interactions. The phrase seemed so obvious and so natural that she wouldn't even thought about it, but what happened in London... it didn't perfectly match the idea of enemies. Without wasting any more time she took a breath in and continued, "but I'm really trying and you are not making it any easier."

"You don't have to act nice," Jack snarled, frowning at the other woman. Miranda could see emotions growing behind her eyes. But it was nothing like before. It wasn't anger or fear. It much more resembled pain. Just as if the sole conversation was a torture to her.

Miranda didn't know what Jack expected her to say. She wasn't even sure what she should say. Without breaking the eye-contact even for a moment, she decided it was best to be frank. That's at least she could do in return for keeping her off the streets.

"But I want to."

Jack met her gaze for just a split of second. It was as if she could trully see her. The real her. Hurt and vulnerable. It was almost painful to look at, but at the same time thrilling. Miranda has never experienced anything like that. Before she was able to say anything else, the biotic slammed the door at her with a loud bang. Well at least she was right, it just took Jack more time than she thought to go back to being her childish self.

* * *

Days have passed and as Jack said they didn't see much of each other. Miranda was absorbed with her new job in the Alliance, and Jack was doing God-knows-what God-knows-where, so when she was actually in, she mostly slept. Or at least that's what Miranda thought, as the other woman couldn't bother as much as to greet her, let alone let her know what she was up to. And since Miranda never dared to actually check on her when she was in her room, she decided it was easier to assume she was just sleeping.

One day Miranda decided to stay up late and do some paper work that she didn't manage to finish earlier. She sat herself on the uncomfortable couch in front of a small coffee table and began to read, until she heard the characteristic low crack sound that the front door made every time someone opened it. She stood up and headed towards it.

When Jack stepped inside she seemed surprised with Miranda. She whispered something under her breath, rolled her eyes and turned around to walk out, clearly without the intention of facing any interaction whatsoever. However, Miranda managed to grab her forearm and stop her, pulling her gently back in.

"Listen, I don't know why are you so upset-"

"They still didn't find her," Jack interrupted as she broke free from the grip. She didn't specify who they didn't find, but it was more than obvious. Miranda was surprised. Not at the statement itself, but rather at how easily she acquired the information she wanted. No arguments, no threats, no long conversations or manipulations. Just a straight-forward answer.

"Shepard can handle herself. You know it just as well as I do," Miranda said, frowning, while she tried to process if this was the real reason behind Jack's strange attitude. Of course she knew that Jack grew fond of Shepard, but so did anyone else who knew the Commander. Being honest, Miranda herself missed her dearly and was undoubtely grateful for everything she has done. And it was quite unnerving to think that no one knew what happened to her. But it was Shepard they were talking about. The woman who survived more than anyone else. She survived death! Of course with a little help from Miranda, but still. "They'll probably find her soon," she added, unsure if she was more trying to convince Jack or herself.

Jack looked at the door one more time before closing it. She sat herself on the armchair standing next to the couch. Her gaze was empty and blank, unfocused.

"Miranda?"

"Yes?" She answered almost immediately. The sound of her own name coming from the other woman was odd and kept echoing in her head.

Jack trembled almost invisibly as if she was fighting with herself on wheter to continue or not. She shook her head, one corner of her mouth raised slightly.

"Ugh, it's stupid. Nevermind." Jack said, fixing her eyes somewhere on the floor. The muscles in her shoulders tensed as she furrowed her eyebrows.

"No, I want to know. What do you need?" Miranda ask genuinely.

Jack lifted her head to meet Miranda's gaze.

"... a hug."

Miranda smiled while approaching the younger woman. Gently wrapped her arms around Jack's neck. She held her close, but not tight, givng her the opportunity to draw back whenever she wanted. "I don't think it was stupid."


	4. I'll mock you anyway

After sharing some warmth and sweat in the last embrace, Miranda finally took one problem off her chest. At least she didn't have to worry about how things are going with Jack. Well of course it wasn't all unicorns and rainbows, but as long as they didn't come in each other's ways they were sorted. And that was a start. However Miranda didn't have much time to dwell on that recently considering how dedicated she was to her new work. It's not that it was a challenge for her or that she loved the job, but they gave her a chance and she wasn't going to waste it. And of course someone had to pay the bills. What was interesting and concerning at the same time, Jack was actually keeping up with her part of the payment, even though Miranda was pretty sure that she hasn't worked since the war.

Surprisingly Jack was home all day. She was ensconcing in her room, but at least Miranda was sure that Jack wouldn't get some pirates - or worse, the Alliance - after them. Actually she was willing to think that Jack was just playing with Eezo for the whole day. She didn't believe that herself, but as long as no-one was dying, she didn't have to bother really. Instead, she decided to try fixing one of her old datapads, as the citadel-blast - as some had called it - destroyed most, if not all of technology. The devices weren't highly damaged in physical means, but the software was entirely dead.

"What's up cheerleader?"

Miranda jumped as if someone just pinched her. Yes, she was expecting Jack to come out at some point, but that didn't make it any less surprising. She got caught up with her work so much that she didn't even hear the older woman sneaking behind her. And by sneaking she meant walking.

"Oh, hi Jack," she said, turning the swivel chair she was sitting on around to face her interlocutor, "I'm just trying to get this thing working. After London I didn't really have the time to do so."

"And how successful are you in this 'fixing'?" Jack asked, trying to take a peek at what Miranda has done to the poor device.

"I must admit that it would've been easier if I had the right tools, but I'm doing pretty good," she said, reflexively veiling the datapad. She didn't really mind Jack looking. Well at least not until the thing was working. Surprisingly, it wasn't because of some sort of Cerberus back up information or anything alongside these conspiracy theories. It was containing mostly her personal notes, and she valued her privacy.

"Have you disconnected the HRV wire?"

For a second her brain delayed the reaction since she got pulled out of her thoughts back to reality.

"Of course I- Oh my..."

Jack bursted out in laughter as she spot Miranda's eyes widen as she realized her mistake. It wasn't a mean kind of laughter though, frankly if the circumstances were different Miranda would have probably admired Jack's good mood.

"Thank God my omni-tool works, otherwise I might have missed the chance to tell everyone how you fried your tech," Jack grinned, however she did not open her omni-tool. She was only playing, as always. There was no need to humiliate Miranda even more. Even though it would be fun.

"I haven't!" Miranda said... far too loudly for the fact she'd claim to be perfectly calm.

"Yes you have. Let me take a look" Jack hunched over, as she scanned the gadget with her sight. Miranda tensed up not only mentally, but physically as well. She froze, waiting for the other woman to break the silence. Normally Miranda would not have been worried, however that night one mistake had been already proven to her and she already learned to control her arrogance.

"Okay, you haven't," Jack said without taking her eyes off the insides of the data-pad, "but if I didn't tell you, you would have." She straightened up, finally allowing Miranda some personal space.

"Since when do you know how to fix datapads?" Miranda tried to hold off the annoyance in her voice. To Jack's delight, she failed miserably.

"Since when aren't you perfect at everything?" Jack's grin has broadened even further.

"Well, before I didn't have many chances to see the actual thing. And also, the older ones lacked the HRV," Miranda answered, trying not to trip over her own words.

"Older ones? Jesus, Miranda how ancient are you?"

Jack raised her eyebrows in a quite exaggerated manner in order to seem surprised or maybe even frightened by Miranda's alleged age. She couldn't keep the face for long, as she exploded with laughter once again, making Miranda roll her eyes obnoxiously.

"You're done yet?"

"Relax cheerleader. I'll help you with that if you want."

Jack's offer was sincere, and that's exactly what concerned Miranda. And the fact that she made herself look as if she never had to work with the physical aspects of technological nuances. And of course it wasn't that she cared if Jack believed her or not. Miranda knew herself, her abilities and worth, no matter what other people said... right?

"I don't need your help," Miranda frowned.

"Fine. But I'll mock you anyway, so don't even wish."

For a moment Miranda was quite sure Jack was going to stick her tongue out like a little kid in a nursery and go back to playing in her sandbox. She wasn't entirely wrong in her assumptions as the younger woman turned around on her wheel and went straight back to her room with a huge smile on her face.


	5. Where you get the credits from

Miranda bounced her knee up and down nervously as she waited for Jack to come home. The younger woman was not known for her punctuality nor her habit of appearing when expected. Actually she lacked both. And it didn't calm Miranda at all. The matter she was about to discuss was not very urgent, however she knew the conversation will be unpleasant and therefore she wanted to get it over with.

The moment she heard the front door huff she jumped to her feet immediately.

"We need to talk," Miranda said, approaching Jack, who looked slightly confused. Though, her expression was rather irritated.

"Wow, you sound like my mother," Jack paused for a moment, but not long enough for Miranda to say anything in return, "Oh, wait I didn't get to know her. I can't exactly remember who's fault is it..." Jack looked up at the ceiling as if it hid all the answers. "But I guess you wouldn't be able to say much about parenting anyway."

Miranda ached as the last sentence hit her. She expected herself to be upset, but instead she just felt hurt. Not even because Jack was in her standard rude manner - Miranda was used to that. But because the young biotic was right. She knew nothing about parenting and she was aware that she never would. Her father... well he was far from the definition of a good parent. Indeed, he 'created' Miranda and brought her to the world, but he never cared for her. He didn't see her as a real child or even a human being. She was his legacy, his prodigy, the best he could leave to the world to be remembered. Albeit after Henry created Oriana Miranda lost even the little she meant to her 'father'. She never learned what motherhood means. She never had a mother. And she'd never become one. The pain of realisation hit her again. She will never be able to hold a child in her arms and call it her own. Even adoption wasn't an option for her. What orphanage would give away a child to a single ex-Cerberus?

For a split of second Miranda felt burning sensation in her eyes as if she was about to cry and her throat closing. But she couldn't cry. She swallowed the gulp and blinked once or twice.

"Okay I can see you're in your grumpy mood again. We can discuss it later."

"What makes you think that later I will be in the mood?" Jack asked with her back to Miranda. She was evidently looking for something.

"Could you just for once act like the adult you are?" Miranda snapped, clenching her fists.

"I'm an adult? What? How come no one notified me?" Jack's voice seemed theatrically surprised as she bent over to take a look under the table. As she straightened up she turned to face Miranda's highly not impressed face. Jack rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Alright. What?" Jack asked, restraining herself for turning around once more.

"I just wanted to know where you get the credits from," Miranda said in cold, piercing voice as she crossed her arms on her chest.

"I didn't steal them if that's what you mean." Jack's answer was calm and didn't seem as upset as Miranda expected it to be. However, the tattooed woman didn't manage to keep eye contact. Miranda deduced that it was a sign of insincerity. And the information she already gathered supported this theory.

"You didn't earn them either. I know you didn't have a job since the war. At least not a legal one."

"Jesus Christ, Miranda. Now you really do sound like you're going to adopt me or some shit."

"That's not funny at all. I'm sincerely concerned and if you-" Miranda got cut off mid sentence as Jack interrupted.

"I've got some savings, happy?"

Miranda got baffled with how rapidly Jack's emotional state went from upset to childish, to bored and finally to annoyed. The mental changes didn't make her work any easier. She had to try hard in order to be able to accurately predict how Jack may react to certain concepts.

"Oh... you... okay," Miranda stuttered, trying to get her thoughts back together.

"Didn't your perfect brain thought about something so simple?" Jack asked, going through one of the shelves in the corner of the room.

"Well I _did_ consider that option for a while, but your profile-"

"Let me guess. It says that I'm emotionally unstable and therefore financial stability isn't meant for me either?"

Miranda couldn't see Jack's face, but she could almost sense that she was grinning right now.

"Well... yes," Miranda admitted reluctantly.

"Haven't you learned yet that these Cerberus profiles apparently are shitty?" Jack huffed, kneeling in front of the couch, with her hand underneath it.

Miranda disagreed with the opinion, but was there a point in arguing when she knew Jack wouldn't change her mind anyway? She squinted her eyes in a gesture of exasperation.

"Okay, if you say so... Can't you just-" She started.

"Nope. Bye," Jack finally managed to find the bottle of some Batarian alcohol and rushed out of the room. ...like she always did.


	6. Too late

Even though Jack became slightly less apathetic in her attitude towards Miranda, she would still disappear for days without a word. Of course Miranda tried not to bother. That was the deal - she would have a place to stay but she wouldn't interfere in Jack's life. She kept telling herself that it's none of her business where Jack is going or what she's doing, but deep down, outside of consciousness she felt perturbed. Worried even. And the worst part was that she was sure Jack wouldn't explain her actions even if she asked. The suspension took over her and she made her mind on this issue. She planted a trace on Jack. As an ex-Cerberus she did things like this many times in the past. Undeniably her skills even helped Shepard find the Illusive Man's base. So what could possibly go wrong? Well apparently... all.

"What the fuck is that Miranda?"

Jack stormed into the room, her palms flashing blue as she threw the tracker at the ex-Cerberus.

Miranda's eyes widened and she could feel a wave of freezing cold follow along her spine as she stood up to face the other woman.

"I can explain!"

"You can explain?" Jack repeated as if she couldn't believe what she just heard. "You were spying on me!"

"I did it for your safety-" Miranda reached her arm towards Jack, but the other woman cast it off.

Miranda could see how the biotic energy pulsed through Jack. Her tattooed fists clenched and unclenched as if she couldn't decide what to do next.

"I thought we had a deal," Jack said in a guttural tone. Miranda remembered it very well. The last time she heard it was when she called the Convict a mistake. It was a matter of luck that it ended up well. But the problem was, she might not have been so lucky this time.

"Jack, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Miranda admitted, trying to prevent her voice from shaking. She could feel the tension build up in her. She couldn't determine if she was frankly scared or really felt like she did something wrong. But she knew this wasn't the time for re-thinking her morality. It was the time she explained her motives, because clearly she owed it to Jack. "I was worried and I knew you wouldn't tell me the truth if I asked." The statement was risky, but somehow Miranda felt that honesty was her only way out.

Jack's posture relaxed slightly and her body turned back to it's natural colour. Heavy, lead silence fell between the two of them. Miranda saw how emotions crossed Jack's face one after another. Suddenly, Jack spoke out with almost a whisper.

"... and that's what makes it right?"

"No but-"

"We can't do that anymore." Jack raised her hands as if she was going to cover her face to push Miranda out of her reality. But she didn't. Instead, she let them fall back down to her sides as she continued "I can't deal with you. Get out."

It wasn't like Miranda didn't expect that, but the words stroked her anyway. Just now she realized the weight of her mistake.

"Jack..."

It was too late. Jack pointed at the door, forcing herself to look at Miranda.

"Get. Out."

Miranda opened her mouth again in order to reason with the younger woman, but the heaviness of guilt make her lips fall closed again. Slowly, she started heading towards the door as if she wished Jack would change her decision. She opened the door and took a last glance over her shoulder. Her eyes met Jack's. Unlike her voice they didn't sparkle in anger, but they were... sad. That was the last thing Miranda wanted. If Jack was angry, she could always try to convince herself that it wasn't her fault but rather the main role had the fact of Jack's mental instability. But Jack wasn't angry. Well, she probably was, but on top of that she seemed almost disappointed. Miranda didn't dare to question it. She was offered help on the battlefield, then a place to stay, then someone to talk to besides herself. And she managed to screw this up.

The worst part was what she found out by spying on Jack. She was visiting the graves of her students. Miranda knew that this explained why she would disappear or why she didn't want to find a job. Or why she was so upset when she was coming back home. It all occurred to her. And she knew that it was the time Jack could use some help. The time she needed someone to be there for her. Especially after Shepard was gone for so long. But it was too late to turn things around.

She turned around and walked out, closing the door behind her. Perhaps closing a path of her life.


	7. One last time

After she got kicked out Miranda had some hard time. She slept in work, previously prepared an explanation if someone caught her - she had so much to do at work that she passed out from the fatigue and over-times. However it was only a temporary solution. Not very comfortable or comforting. For the first time in quite a long time she didn't really know what to do. She didn't dare to contact Jack just yet. ...or at all. She felt so lost and vulnerable even though she tried to fight off this feeling every single day. It reminded her of her first days after she escaped with Oriana. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. No possible future. Of course this time she had the Alliance but she was a realist and knew that they only cared if she did her job.

With Oriana there was one more factor. Miranda had been determined to ensure her sister's safety whatever the cost. This time she had the choice. Was she determined to make things right then? She kept asking herself the question over and over again.

* * *

She stood in the pouring rain next to the building she until recently lived in. She wasn't sure what she was doing. Was she going to go in and ask Jack if she could have her belongings back? No. Should she call her first? But Jack probably wouldn't accept the call anyway.

Standing there and rethinking her options she heard the front door opened and immediately she recognized the familiar face behind them. Jack winced as she spotted Miranda, or at least she thought she did. The younger woman came out of the door and immediately was flooded with the rain as she stared at Miranda blankly.

Seeing that apparently Jack was waiting for the confrontation as she did not proceed, the ex-Cerberus took a deep breath and approached her before either of them could change her mind. Miranda stopped a feet or two before Jack, looking into her deep dark eyes and trying to see any sight of emotion. She was generally good at reading people whereas Jack never bothered to hide much, especially her anger.

"Jack." Miranda nodded slightly, ready for anything - a slap, a shout, anything besides this blank gaze.

"Cheerleader." Jack muttered. At this point Miranda knew that things were not lost yet. She could still make it right if she played the game well.

She pulled away a strand of wet her that glued itself on her cheek. She opened her mouth for a moment too long as if she didn't know what to say. But she did.

"Can we try one last time?"

Jack's face didn't change at all. However Miranda could swear she saw Jack's lip fidget a bit, but it may have been the rain. Of course Jack weren't the fur-coat type of girl, but Miranda felt uneasy just thinking about how cold the other woman probably was at the time. Jack's gaze kept piercing Miranda, as she slowly said:

"Do you really think I would be able to trust you now?"

"I know it's difficult for you..." Miranda answered automatically as if she was one of those Avina bots, but she didn't even get to finish her sentence before she was interrupted by the other woman.

"Oh because you've read it in my psychological files while you were chipping me like a dog?" Jack asked in her typically playful voice, but Miranda could sense how bitter she actually was.

"It's not easy for me either." Miranda said, weighting her own words. She couldn't afford another misunderstanding.

"Oh right,' Jack rolled her eyes with half a grin, 'because you had it sooo hard living in your mansion with your perfect ass and shitloads of credits."

That felt like a shot right in the face. Especially since Jack have been there alongside her and Shepard when they were saving Orianda. Jack should have understood that Miranda's childhood wasn't pretty, even if it wasn't as bad as Jack's. She should understand why Miranda had such trust issues. Yeah trust. The memory of Niket stroked her. Why was she standing here anyway? Hasn't she learnt her lesson about people yet? But then she remembered the Commander and how she got her to talk to Oriana. And how happy and peaceful she felt after the conversation, knowing that her sister was safe and didn't hate her for what she did, the choices she was forced to make. Relations with people aren't easy, but if she really learnt anything it would be that they're worth it.

"You know just as well as I do that credits are not as important as they seem." Miranda answered, her voice a tiny bit colder than she intented.

"They're not? Well I think if they weren't you wouldn't be standing here, begging me to take you back." Jack crossed her arms on her chest, leaning a bit further from Miranda who frowned at the younger woman's words.

"Jack, I may be sorry but this doesn't give you the right nor the power to humiliate me."

Jack rolled her eyes again. At this point it seemed almost as if she was getting more border rather than upset.

"Listen..." Miranda started to catch the other biotic's attention. "Except for Shepard I, "she hesitated for a split of second" I never had a real friend. I don't know how to act... I guess I just freak out... because I'm worried and..."

What Miranda wanted to say was something among the lines of 'I don't want to lose you, and I'm scared that you'll get in trouble and leave me', but she changed her mind as the thought occurred to her quickly enough as stupid. Fortunately, Jack didn't decide to dwell on that. Instead there was a long pause in between them as Jack stared at Miranda with hard, steel eyes.

"Long story short - you're emotionally disabled, unable to develop any sort of trust that's not based on you controlling everyone."

Miranda wiped the rain of her face, considering the other woman's words. Was that really what Jack has seen in her? Could she be right or was she just trying to examine how far she could cross the line wih Miranda?

"...Yes."

Jack squinted her eyes before letting out a long sigh.

"Alright. I'll take you back. But it's the last chance."


	8. On your cost

The recovery of technology damaged due to Shepard's heroic decision was taking far less than anyone expected in the first few days, however things like omni-tools were still a privilege, being disposed very carefully - mostly to the people in charge or personnel who _had_ to use them. And of course Miranda was one of these people. Even more, considering how often she's been working from home after she finished her shift, her supervisors allowed her to have an omni-tool of her own, that she could take home anytime without any repercussions. Obviously, all data transmissions have been limited to the minimum and usage of transfer without a valid reason was strictly prohibited, however someone like Miranda could always find a way out. Or a byway.

Of course Miranda had her ways of checking on Oriana since the war but she didn't manage to actually speak to her even once. And since not a single source could be reliable enough when it came to her sister's life, she decided it was the time to call her. It wasn't easy to keep all her standards in making sure the call was secure and wouldn't be easily tracked since the receiver wouldn't be Oriana's old omni-tool, but one dropped to her by one of Miranda's contacts. She was totally ready. She got her doubts though. What if Oriana wouldn't understand that Miranda couldn't contact her directly any sooner? No, she was a smart girl. But what if Miranda's contact lied and she wasn't okay? Then again, she was Miranda's sister - she had the skill of handling herself in her blood, didn't she?

Miranda spent few very long minutes re-considering what to do and what to say until she finally initiated the call. The vision wasn't clear at all, but the moment she heard Oriana's voice she felt as if the weight of the world had been taken off her chest. Even her absurdal anxiety about her sister's reaction went away quickly, as she seemed utterly happy to hear Miranda and even led the conversation.

When Jack stepped inside the house Miranda was just saying goodbye. Just by the rhythm and rate of her footsteps Miranda could say that Jack was in a terrible mood and most likely didn't really feel like talking to Miranda. That's too bad for her because Miranda was in the mood of talking to _her_.

"Jack, wait."

"Um?" Jack grunted, popping her head inside the room.

After all that happened between them Miranda felt that they really should have talked it through. But of course they didn't. It almost itched her how awkward things have gotten, even though neither of them wanted to show it. Being struck with the fact that for the past few weeks Miranda had been leaving off someone being deliberately nice to her - in their own screwed up way but still - she decided she should at least try to return the favour.

"Remember when we spoke about your debt?" Miranda asked cautiously, knowing that too much of invading the parts of Jack's life she considered private could and most probably would result in her being kick out - for good this time. To her surprise, Jack didn't seem upset in her standard way. Rather more annoyed.

"Oh, just leave it. I still have some money, don't get involved." Jack sighed as if she was already really tired of whatever Miranda was going to say.

"No, no. I've been just thinking about how you reminded me to disconnect the HRV."

Jack fidgeted impatiently.

"Get to the point, I don't feel like dealing with your bullshit today."

Miranda stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Their conversations started to follow some strange pattern. Each time at least one of them didn't want to have the particular chat but they were still going to go with it for some reason.

"I just thought that maybe I could find you a job since you already know what you're doing." Miranda explained.

"Cheerleader, you know just as well as I do, that I do not want a job. _Especially that_ job."

Jack straightened up as if she was going to leave.

"What are you going to do when you run out of credits?"

"I'll worry about it when I do. Is there anything else that concerns you?"

"Why do you have to be suck a jerk all the time?" Miranda asked, not quite sure if she should laugh or leave it as a serious question.

"Apparently you've read my profile. I'm a psycho bitch, that's why."

Jack shook her shoulders, then turned around, ready to head to her own room.

"Oh Jack,"Miranda said, looking over the other woman's shoulder, where Eezo gambolled his way towards them, "I'm going out for dinner, would you like to join me?"

Jack stared at Miranda for a moment too long, making her a bit uneasy. Jack petted Eezo, still without taking her eyes off the ex-Cerberus, while considering the offer.

"On your cost?"

"Sure."

"Alright then."

* * *

At first the whole thing felt really forced and the time was passing slowly as ever. However after some time - and maybe some wine - they started talking. Both of them tried not to step into any topic related to the other's past, so the main subject of their conversation were the good old days on the Normandy and what they have been doing after the crew had fallen apart. Finally, when they've made themselves comfortable enough they tried to touch upon the little incident with the tracking device. They've made quite a few very explicit statements on the topic, but overall no one got killed so it wasn't that bad. After they finished their meal and Miranda paid, both of them returned home arm to arm, which can be considered an improvement.

Few hours have passed since they got home and Miranda was going to be surprised once again, by Jack standing in her doorway with a repentant expression on her face.

"I had a second thought about what you said..." Jack said, looking at her feet, "about the job and debts I mean."

Seeing that Jack felt quite embarrassed Miranda decided to make it easier for the poor girl and asked:

"Would you like to try then?"

Jack nodded.


	9. Good News

It's been a really long day for Miranda. Mondays, right? Apparently they are not so bad or at least not always. She just got promoted, finished her work before the deadline so she didn't really have to stay up late at the alliance and she also found out something that made her smile for the rest of the day. Even when she entered the apartment and was greeted by the usual grumpy silence she didn't stop smiling. Instead, she went right to the kitchen, where she spot Jack sitting on the counter top playing with a knife. Miranda guessed that the other woman was starting to get bored as she instantly raised her eyes from her palm as Miranda walked in the room. Most probably she was internally astonished by the suspiciously good mood Miranda was in, so she only raised her eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"Well hello, how was your day?" Miranda asked, grinning her teeth as she placed her datapad down on the table.

"It wasn't horrible, why?" Jack shrugged as to indicate she didn't bother with the conversation, however her eyes gave her away. How her gaze pierced Miranda almost as if she was trying to wrench on her thoughts in search for answers. This sparkle of curiosity was something new and didn't quite match Jack's usual attitude, but the flickering in her pupil definitely suited her.

"I've got some pretty good news."

The lively expression on Jack's face heartened Miranda's bubbly spirit even further. And that's exactly why she chose to pretend to disregard it as to not provoke the other woman to deny it or hide it due to her imaginary pride.

"You're finally getting yourself some real clothes?"

Miranda rolled her eyes at Jack, still smiling. It's not like she didn't expect that. After all this time she got used to Jack's childishness, thus it didn't bother her as much. Better, on times she found it rather cute.

"Look who's talking," Miranda snorted, tracing Jack's figure. She suspected that it would be a matter of time before the biotic tones down, but not much has changed in her looks since the end of the war. She grew skinnier again, making her black leather coat hang slightly at her bony shoulders. Her small breasts and torso were still covered only by a white cloth bra, exposing most of her tattoos. Miranda could easily tell she has lost some of her muscle mass as well. Now her hands were always cold whereas on the Normandy they used to be burning hot. A sad half-smile crossed Miranda's face, but she shook it off immediately. She promised herself she'll try not to intervene in Jack's life as long as she doesn't have to. She turned her eyes back to the other woman's face, putting her smile back on. "And no. But I'm working on a project and I have accidentally found out that they are planning on rebuilding the Grissom Academy."

Suddenly Jack's eyes faded as she turned her face away in a pitiful attempt to avoid Miranda's face that now had a manner of disappointment mixed with shock. She locked her gaze at something behind the window, across the street as Miranda suspected. She curled up one of her knees and pressed it against her chest, while swaying gently back and forth. "And what am I do to with it?"

Miranda now completely perplexed, didn't seem to understand the question in the first moment. And when she did, her jaw dropped and she jumped imperceptibly as to push herself to some action. "It would be highly helpful if someone like you supported the project, considering your previous successes in this field." Miranda said, trying not to stammer the words.

"What exactly do you need me to do?" Jack asked, biting her lip.

"Suggest some improvements, perhaps help to plan out the new setting and...," A new thought crossed Miranda's mind. What if Jack was frankly afraid she won't be able to get her position back? In fact, the Academy has taken really heavy damage and from what she suspected Jack hasn't contacted Kahlee Sanders ever since the war has finished. She totally had the right to worry that the Academy may end up in someone else's hands. Someone who wouldn't be very pleased with having a emotionally unstable, half-naked, tattooed girl, who curses like a sailor as an instructor. The silence after Miranda's pause seemed to bounce right back to her, dispersing her thought process. She blinked once or twice to fully shake off the idea. Jack was still sitting before her, now playing with the tiny bit of fog that settled on the window. She didn't seem to pay attention to anything beside the watery track her finger left on the glass. "They would employ you again if you agreed," Miranda said quietly.

"Okay, I'll think about it," Jack muttered without taking her eyes of her palm that she was now inspecting as if she was seeing it for the very first time.

"You'll think about it? You were amazing at the job and it helped you grow as a person, you said so yourself, and you loved it and the way you treated these kids... I don't understand," Miranda snapped. All of the confusion has finally accumulated in her, ready to explode. This wasn't suppose to go like that. Jack was suppose to gratefully accept the offer, take care of the kids and herself and maybe finally understand that Miranda meant no harm. But it all went wrong. Again.

"I don't want to go there, cheerleader. That's it." Jack nodded as if to convince herself that it was the right decision.

Miranda knew very well what hid behind the sudden apathy. She tried not to let the thought occur to her as something real, but with every passing second she was more convinced of the reason. During the war Jack lost some of her students. Not all, not even most, but it was still enough to crush her. Of course, she wouldn't want to go back. The guilt wouldn't let her, even if it was clearly the most logical and senseful option. For years Jack tried to isolate her feelings from other people. To care only about her own well being. And when finally someone gave her a credit of trust, the responsibility over someone else's life... She didn't manage. She failed not only her students, Kahlee and Shepard, but also herself. At least that's what she thought. Miranda figured it all out. The puzzle was solved, but she wanted to hear it from Jack. That would be the only way to see if she was capable of making things better again.

"May I ask why?" Miranda asked, fitting her tone to the need - not too emotionless but not too caring either.

For the first time in the last couple of minutes Jack turned herself towards Miranda. Her eyes were filled with grief, pain and anger. She jumped off the counter top, not letting Miranda's gaze slip even for a second, while she pushed her way through the doorway.

"You know more than well that it's none of your business," she hissed and disappeared in the dimness of the apartment.


	10. Grabbing drinks

The warm yellow light illuminated the living room. The pile of empty beer-bottles laying under the low coffee table cast short shadows reaching towards the small couch neighbouring with a pale wall behind it. Numerous scratches and minor holes, souvenirs of Eezo's playing habits, decorated both the walls and the couch. Next to the table also stood an armchair. A poor fraud of beige leather. Although, it was in a visibly better state than the rest of furniture, no-one seemed to prefer it over the couch. Most probably since the narrow seat provided amount of space suitable only for a five year old.

On the couch sat Jack, staring across the table. Her elbows on the table, swirling the bottle in her hand as she said, "And then the krogan goes 'It was a pyjack all along!'"

A genuine eruption of laughter followed from both her and Miranda. Muffled whizzing filled the room as both women tried to balance the laughter, breathing, and not rocking like maniacs. All at the same time.

Miranda's face adopted a shade of cheerful redness before she managed to withhold the remaining chuckle. The alcohol in her blood circulated, giving her the false impression of high temperature. Despite that, she leaned back, taking another sip of the red wine from her glass. She thought it to be quite interesting that Jack actually had specifically wine-glasses. She never struck Miranda as someone who would fully enjoy the delicate aroma and savour of this kind of liquor, but rather prefer something more pungent.

"Well that's a plot twist! Even krogans have their limits when it comes to drinking."

"No, no. There isn't such thing as too much alcohol," Jack chuckled before taking a sip from her bottle. She leaned forwards across the table, narrowing her eyes, she said in a secretive tone, "That's what they want you to think."

"Who's them?" Miranda asked, now interested in the new theory. Was it the Alliance? Was it the Council? The Reapers? No, they were long gone, but who could stand behind the so-cruel antagonism of alcohol consumption... Her all-running thoughts got rudely interrupted by Jack's usual toneless response.

"Does it really matter?" Jack twisted the beer as to see the label. Her gaze smoothly slid along the letters. Earthly beer. It was a luxury a few months ago, but now as the industry was getting back on its feet it ceased to amaze anyone. But it was still a fucking good beer.

"I guess not." Miranda shrugged before wiggling a little, ready to stand up. "I'm going to get another bottle, do you want one too?" Miranda asked, squeezing herself between the coffee table and the armchair she sat on a moment ago. Finally, with the last squeak of the material, she managed to stand up. The gravitation didn't seem as a great opponent after defeating the Reapers but it still made her rock slightly.

"Ugh," Jack peaked inside the bottle, furrowing her eyebrows, clearly unamused with the amount left, "sure."

* * *

"Where on Earth are they..." Miranda muttered to herself going through yet another cupboard of the orange elevation that ran across the wall. It was facing a long table that resembled a counter top of a bar, much alike to the one belonging to Shepard. Miranda often would smile briefly, passing by, remembering the good old times. Well, the war wasn't fun at all, but having Shepard around, nothing seemed impossible. Maybe beside her and Jack getting along. And yet it happened. Finally, after a couple minutes of struggles she groaned faintly, deciding she hasn't had the nerve for that. Especially on that particular night when she was free from work and actually enjoying herself. "Jack, where's the wine? I can't find it." She yelled, turning her face towards the door in anticipation. In silence, she awaited an answer, but as none came she sighted loudly, shaking her head before opening one of the cupboards she has already checked, hoping that maybe by the means of magic or whatever else she would find the wine there.

"Move yourself," Jack said. Oddly, in a non-aggressive, almost gentle way. Miranda almost jumped in the air in astonishment; instead a barely audible gasp left her lips. She hasn't heard Jack walking over to her nor was she able to see her, having her head inside the furniture. To her own surprise she regarded the mistake as rather silly and didn't feel upset or dissapointed. After all it was her home; there was nothing to be afraid of. Not anymore. No Collectors, no Reapers, no Alliance, no Cerberus. As the thought crossed her mind she realized that peace and boredom bordered with each other with a very thin line.

Jack had her limits, especially when it came to patience. Seeing Miranda lose herself in whatever was going on in her mind, she rolled her eyes. If she hasn't drinked with the ex-Cerberus before, she would think that the alcohol was taking a hold of her. "Earth to Miranda, we've got wine to find."

Hearing Jack's voice Miranda instantly snapped back to reality. Shaking off the remaining thoughts, she took a step back with a quiet: "Of course." She moved back, pushing herself onto the corner sideboard, ready to assist with... well anything.

Jack tapped her chin, her gaze sliding through all the possible places until a hardly-visible smirk came onto her face. Reaching up to one of the cupboards three or four feet above her head her black leather jacked slid up setting itself tighter on the bony shoulders and exposing the collarbones.

Miranda caught herself staring at the sculpted muscles of Jack's abs as they twitched every time she stretched towards the shelf. How the ink under her skin worked within the body lined with scars. She frowned at the sole idea of what stories hid behind those scars, and that she believed Miranda to be a part of this.

She moved her eyes up, stopping by her small breasts hidden under the white clothed bra, and then even higher, admiring the focus on her face as the dark brown eyes remained still on the goal. Miranda's cheeks turned red as she cleared her throat and looked away, pointing her gaze towards the floor. She could feel her head spin, the floor tiles swaying under her feet, her vision becoming blurry. She blinked

"Not this fuckin one either." Jack cussed under her breath as she banged her fist on the cupboard's door, slamming it close. She clutched her lips in a thin line, squinting her eyes. Her body rocked swiftly back and forth as her side leaned closer to Miranda.

The burning sensation in her chicks was growing unbereable just like the desperate need to look up and steal one more glimpse at the enticing body clothed with tattoos. Her head was becoming heavy. She locked her hands behind her back, trying not to act upon her desires as the other woman repeatively brushed against her.

At last, Jack was so close from getting the bottle. So close and yet so far. Her fingertips even flicked it once or twice. _Why would I have it so fuckin high..._

"Enough!" Jack scowled, climbing the countertop. Her arms haven't budged even so slightly as she pulled herself up. Finally, she stood up, taking the bottle out. As she was just about to climb down a thought occurred to her: _I'll get two, just in case._ She grabbed another bottle, glancing once more on the shelf. Nothing left in here, fortunately. She jumped down swiftly, a bottle in each hand, before glimpsing at Miranda.

"Are you alright, cheerleader? You look pale."

"I'm fine..." Miranda mumbled, an instant before the sight of the floor approached her.


	11. The floor is moving

The bleak blur of the room rushed before her. Miranda closed her eyes ready for the impact. As she was just inches from the floor, she felt slender fingers clutching her side in a firm grip. Whilst Jack slid her other hand under her arm, Miranda tried to oppose the gravitation pulling her downwards. What happened, how did she even get into that state? It wasn't her usual self, she was always careful not to go over the top and now there she was, struggling like a fish taken out of the water desperately trying to gather the strength required to straighten up.

When she finally got the opportunity to face Jack all her courage suddenly perished, just like that. Her gaze wandered to the floor, the only place she it could rest without the fear of confronting the other woman... or her own reflection. As she forced herself decided to look up, the first thing that stroked her was the pair of dark brown eyes she had no problem admiring just moments ago. Looking into them... It was simply too much. She felt her heart being torn apart, for so long she longed to see love and compassion on someone's face while looking at her. But the worry... She never wanted that. She shouldn't have let that happened.

The hard wood of a sideboard pressed onto her back caused her to fidget as she tried to lean back, unsure of where to rest her gaze. Everything seemed like a better option than the woman standing before her.

For a reason completely unknown to her conscious mind she felt her chin twitch and the muscles in her throat fighting each other, creating a lumpy feeling. Before she realized hot tears burst forth, streaming down her face and dropping on the floor.

This couldn't be real. All she had to do was get out of this nightmare but how?

She shot her head upwards. Blobs of shapes and colours danced widely before her eyes, leaving her with mainly smuged image of Jack staring at her wide-eyed.

"That would be enough drinks for you." Jack's voice seemed soothing and quiet. Not mocking as Miranda thought it would be. Maybe even as she wanted it to be. It would make it all so much easier.

Miranda tried to pull her hands up, but her muscles relaxed mid-air and dropped back down. Blinking repeatedly, her mind oscillated between wishing all of this was already over and wishing it could never end. The endless pool of darkness, the strength of the arms that held her just moments ago... All the tension that had gradually built up in her body over the years seemed to dissolve in the sedative sea of alcohol her organism was now drowning in. On the other hand, her stomach appeared to be in the middle of acrobatics practice.

A shade of green crept onto Miranda's pale face as she covered her eyelids with her hands, breathing heavily.

"Do you feel like throwing up?" A pair of cold palms pulled Miranda's hands away from her face and held up her chin. The touch was gentle and steady. Miranda let a quiet sight escape her lips at the thought how throughout her life the two were bereft from her.

The white light of the room reflected in the eyes hidden under the deep frown. Jack didn't find Miranda's response consisting of a mere bunch of slurred moans very satisfying."It's the last time I'm drinking with you, cheerleader."

"Noo..." Miranda groaned, now motivated to get herself together. If fighting the Reapers, her father and eventually Cerberus didn't break her then some beer and wine wouldn't either. She clutched to the top of the counter behind her like her life depended on it and started to pull herself up. "I'mm... fiine..."

"Stay there. I'll get you some water."

Psshh, the water bottle opened with a hiss. A short gulg filled the silence as the water filled the glass.

Jack kneeled down beside Miranda, whose face twitched the moment her lips touched the ice cold glass. But Jack was right - it would help her come to herself. She put her palms around the glass, bringing it closer to her mouth. The hot skin of her fingers brushed against Jack's hand as the vessel was passed. Looking up into the other woman's eyes she instantly recognized the anger flashing behind them. The corner's of Miranda's lips dropped slightly as she brought her eyebrows together. Of course it wasn't meant to go like that, but at this point there wasn't much she could do about the state she was in.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled before taking another small sip. The cold water filling her stomach was somewhat helpful, but she knew it would still take her some time to sort herself out and even more time to come to terms with this sort of embarrassment.

"From all the things," Jack paused, "you're sorry for getting wasted?" She arched a surprised eyebrow, leaning into a more comfortable position to support herself. The words echoed as if Miranda's mind was an endless well, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't make out much of them. Instead, she shrugged and tried to give her friend an apologetic look.

"Whatever. Don't stress about it now." Jack said.

Now. The word didn't put her at ease at all. But the reassurance that she'd get a chance to explain herself while sober was at least somewhat comforting.

The air around them seemed strangely hot and the colors uncomfortably lurid.

After Miranda was able to hold the glass of water on her own, Jack sat next to her, bringing one of her knees to her chest and gazing into the distance. Both of them seemed detached from reality and neither decided to speak. The only sound in the room was their breathing and the occasional clanking of the glass against the floor as Miranda put it back down after taking yet another sip.

A while later Jack sighed loudly and stood up. "Come on. I'll take you to your room." She said and reached out towards Miranda who without much hesitation accepted the hand and pulled herself up. The instant she stood up she regretted the decision. Her balance was still very off and if it wasn't for Jack's hand on her hip she probably would have fallen down again.

With her arm wrapped around Jack's neck, Miranda allowed the other woman to lead her through the apartment to her bedroom. She enjoyed feeling Jack's body so close to her own and found it fairly impressive how Jack despite her bony shape was able to support a great part of Miranda's weight, seemingly without much effort.

As they finally reached their destination the lights automatically went on, revealing a room that with its sterile-like environment to Jack always resembled more of a laboratory rather than a living space. White walls; a black-and-white bed in the corner; a white wardrobe that almost looked like it was part of the wall; a padded white chair... White, white, white, grey, black, oh look white again! The only thing that actually had any soul or color to it was a bunch of folders at the top of a grey desk. It always made her feel quite uneasy looking at the almost monochromatic setting. It reminded her of Cerberus. Of course it was no coincidence that she decided to pass the room down to Miranda.

Even though she would never admit it out loud, the years she spent on the Normandy and the time she invested in the Academy had changed her. She decided that in this particular situation it was best to assume a Shepard-like approach: do what she had to, get it over with.

Gently, she helped Miranda to sit down on the bed. When she was sure that the woman most probably would not meet the floor... again... she decided it was time for her to leave. Without another thought she rushed towards the door, happy to finally get out.

One meter, almost by the door.

Half a meter, the door opened with a swish.

She set her foot outside. She was safe-

"Jack?"

She stopped upon hearing a horse voice stained with an Australian accent calling from behind her.

Damn it! So close!

It took her a long moment of empty silence to respond. She hesitated, twitched a little bit but in the end she couldn't bring herself to face the other woman. She did her best, turning tilting her head a bit to her left to be able to recognize words in the mumbling that made up Miranda's speech. "What?"

"Can you... ugh, help me get changed?"

Jack could hear that Miranda was nearly as uncomfortable with that thought as she was.

No. Of course she couldn't help her get changed, what the fuck?! Was it her fault that Miranda got so wasted? Absolutely no, so why the fuck did she have to deal with the consequences of someone else's stupid decision? And Miranda's from all people...

But she had seen the other woman walk with her limbs floating and swinging mindlessly, and she knew that the chances the ex-Cerberus would... accomplish anything were slim at best. And obviously she wouldn't see anything she hasn't before. She had some history with quite a few women and so did Miranda, or at least she claimed to have. And something kept telling her she wasn't lying. A gut feeling you could call it. What they both agreed upon was that those women were always easily removable and replaceable. Well this time it wasn't the case.

Jack couldn't bring herself to speak; she just nodded in agreement; walked up to the wardrobe and opened it with one brisk move.

Quite a few times she had seen Miranda wandering the apartment at night, and for once she was thankful for that as picking the right 'outfit' wasn't much of a problem and in consequence made the whole torture much shorter. The fact that Miranda's clothing palette was, to Jack's surprise, very slim also made the choosing much easier. In the end she picked out a black tank top and shorts, something that Miranda used to wear often enough to make it a safe guess. No kids would come out of this, but she really wasn't in the mood for risks. Or kids for that matter.


End file.
